Trust
by barbie.kim
Summary: After Nero, things are still tense between James T. Kirk and his First Officer. However, when a freak accident on Searus IV leaves Jim blind and only Spock seems to hold the solution, their relationship has no choice but to turn for the better. K/S


The air was stifling. Each person worked silently, eyes fixed towards their own station, afraid to relax even one moment, lest they be chosen as the unfortunate outlet to the Captain or First Officer's frustration. Still, the silence, although stuffy and uncomfortable, with only the hum of the ship and the occasional click of a button to interrupt, was a welcome respite to the constant arguments rebounding off the walls of the Bridge. For the maiden ship Enterprise, glares, hunched shoulders, and headaches were common occurrences, 99% of which could be attributed to the incredible tension that lay thick and heavy between Captain James T. Kirk and his First Officer Mr. Spock.

***/\***/\***

"Prepare the landing party," commanded Jim, captain of the starship Enterprise. "I'll be down in 5 minutes. Kirk out."

A pause and Spock turned from his station to level a significant look at the Captain. He raised his eyebrow.

"Captain, are you sure that is a wise decision?" he asked.

The man in question merely frowned and rubbed his hands over his face. The lieutenants on the Bridge stiffened. They knew what was coming.

"I am well aware of Starfleet regulations, Spock", he muttered, voice slightly muffled by his palms.

Spock tilted his head in agreement. "Indeed you do, Captain," he replied. "I did not say I believed otherwise."

The Captain's jaw tightened. He dropped his hands and carefully looked over the Bridge, away from Spock.

"Yeah, but you were suggesting it."

"I was not, Captain…" Spock paused. An awkward beat and Jim turned his head over to his First Officer, a note of challenge in his eyes.

"…So, what is it, Spock? What exactly isn't logical enough for you?"

Spock stared at Jim for a moment, attempting to understand the underlying frustration. He decided to retreat.

"It is of no importance." Spock was about to turn back but Kirk stopped him, shaking his head.

"No, Spock. I insist. What exactly is it you have to say to me?"

"Captain, this is no time for-"

"I'll do what I damn like, Spock. Now, I _command_ you to tell me."

Spock's jaw pulsed. His face had quickly turned into a very excellent imitation of a stone wall.

He replied coldly, "I merely question your decision to beam down to the planet when there has been noticeable political turmoil-"

"Spock, you know we need this planet. Their resources of dilithium are extraordinary. Not to mention, the rebellions are severely depleting the planet's ability for survival."

"Perhaps but it would be best to convene with Starfleet first and foremost and await further instruction-"

"Spock, people are _dying_."

The First Officer merely shook his head slightly. "Indeed, but with the wrong choice of action, only more casualties would result. I advise that we wait for Starfleet's report on the situation."

Jim stared.

"…I can't believe you," he said slowly. "And what, you _advise_ us to let more people die while we're sitting prettily in our seats? This is no time for petty rules-"

"Starfleet regulations are not 'petty rules.' They have been placed with the utmost consideration and thought and yet you insist-"

"Starfleet regulations are a pile of _shit_, Spock!"

"They are _not _and your incredibly unwise decision to repeatedly ignore Starfleet regulations is extremely-"

"I don't need your criticism! I'm not going to just sit here while people outside are dying every minute from a war they didn't choose! This is _my _ship and _my _crew and I don't need you to tell me how to run my captaincy!"

Jim stood up. Spock did so as well.

"I disagree, Captain. You are rash, inexperienced, unpredictable, and take far too little consideration of your actions. Your decision is unwise and has little chance of success."

The Captain took a moment to glare. "Take the conn, you fucker," he spit out. "I'm going."

Face extremely red, he stormed out the Bridge. Spock merely stood there, frozen, before turning and stiffly seating himself in the Captain's chair. No one turned to look at the First Officer, except Lieutenant Uhura, a concerned look gracing her features that Spock pointedly ignored.

Spock turned his stare to Chekov, who was at the moment desperately trying to sink into the chair.

"Lieutenant Chekov," he said, voice tight. "Monitor the Captain's frequencies and periodically survey the planet's surface for any radioactive activity."

Chekov nodded quickly and Spock stiffly turned back towards the screen. His fingers curled against the armchair before he consciously relaxed them, unwilling to belie any tension after the altercation with the Captain.

Even now, a month after the Enterprise had set off on its five-year mission, a month to become accustomed to the unpredictable and loud behavior of James Tiberius Kirk, the Captain's emotions and intentional taunts still severely tested Spock's emotional control.

He needed to meditate.

***/\***/\***

"Damn Vulcan," Jim muttered to himself as he strode down the Enterprise corridor. Swiftly he tucked a phaser and communicator in the back of his belt. The security team was already down in the transporter room and he had wasted precious time by arguing with Spock…

Jim paused, his eyebrows furrowing and a distinctly red tint coming back to his face, before he shook it off and entered the transporter room, jumping up onto the pad, the red shirts following. Now was no time to think about the tense relationship Jim had with his First Officer, even if Spock irritated the hell out of Jim every time he made those stick-up-your-ass comments about proper protocol and about how fucking _illogical _the Captain was acting. Shit, it was like it was Spock's fucking _job_ to question every single damn decision that Jim made.

Still, he was sure that, sooner or later, they would make up their differences and be a great command team, just as the other Spock had said.

At least, he was partly sure.

"Energize," Jim announced and the team quickly vanished under a stream of light.

***/\***/\***

Jim had barely any time to reorient himself before, instincts taking over, he yelled, "Duck!" and took cover behind a dilapidated stone wall. The security team rolled in after him.

A second later, an explosion created a wrenching hole where they had been mere moments before.

"Shit," Jim cursed under his breath while he took in his surroundings. They had materialized right into the middle of the battlefield. Phaser shots and grenade explosions were flying about to either side and the whole air was filled with dust and grit. The noise was deafening, shouts and intense explosions that were way past the suggested decibel level surrounding the small Enterprise crew. The security team set their phasers to stun and waited for following orders while Jim dug out the communicator from behind, all the while watching warily for any intruders.

He flipped the cover and yelled, "Enterprise, Enterprise, come in! We've landed straight in the battlefield! Direct us to the nearest diplomatic headquarters so we can get this whole mess straightened out."

"…Yes, Captain. Straight ahead of you is a safe location where you may organize a meeting with the head of government and the rebels…" Spock's calm voice relayed through the communicator. A pause, some crackle, and then, "Captain, the chance of you succeeding is-"

Jim hung up the communicator and tucked it back into his belt, ignoring the shared looks between the security ensigns beside him. He got it. Get to base, call up the leader, somehow contact the rebels who were busy firing all hell into the city, make peace, fetch the dilithium, and get out as fast as he could. He flicked his fingers forward and put on his cockiest smile.

"All right team, you heard the man. Let's go."

***/\***/\***

Spock stared, almost disbelievingly, at the communication panel. The Captain had, with all intention, broken off the line. Kirk clearly did not know or was merely ignoring how weak and dangerous his plan was, the latter being the most probable. The chance of his plan succeeding was less than 8.3%. Although not completely insignificant, it was not a reliable probability of success to risk going down to an unstable planet and thus endangering the Captain as well as the security team's lives. Did he not realize that he held the most important position of this ship? That, of all the people on the Enterprise, he should have been the last one to go?

Chekov suddenly straightened in his seat, his fingers rapidly moving over the panel.

"Commander Spock, sir!" he exclaimed. "Ze radioactive readings-! They're spiking!"

Spock immediately walked over to Chekov's station, leaning over to check the data. It was accurate.

Chekov shook his head, unable to believe it. "It was not zhere before, sir. One second, it just appeared, as if…"

The young lieutenant looked up at Spock, eyes wide.

The First Officer inclined his head, in silent agreement. "Indeed, the most likely reason is that they have taken off the protective covering of a bomb. The readings are not high enough to indicate any implosion, yet…"

Barely a flicker of a shadow passed over Spock's face before he asked, "Where is the highest concentration of nuclear activity?"

Chekov rapidly made calculations, pinpointing the highest levels, before muttering in reply, "A mile off the city, Commander. But it's moving fast. Ze Captain doesn't have much time!"

The First Officer muttered, "They are moving at 7.4 miles per hour. At best, we have little more than 8.108 minutes. Lieutenant Uhura, alert the Captain."

She shook her head, having already tried the communications. "I've been attempting to relay messages to the Captain's team but am receiving no response. They may be too close to the radioactive activity or they are too busy to answer their communicators. Either way, we are unable to alert him of the bomb."

Chekov's eyes widened with shock but Spock had already turned and strode to the lift. Before he started his descent, he turned towards the communication officer, stating, "Lieutenant Uhura, take the conn. Ensign Chekov, please monitor my frequencies."

"Yes, sir," they both replied. However, before the doors shut, Uhura stood up, staring straight at Spock. Spock looked back.

"And, sir?" Uhura asked.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

A pause. "Good luck," she said softly.

Spock raised an eyebrow. He inclined his head.

The doors closed.

***/\***/\***

Debris scattered on the ground and Jim just barely avoided getting hit by a particularly sharp piece of rock. Another ensign was not so lucky and the Captain stumbled to her side, unbalanced by the explosions rumbling through the ground. He put his hands over her wound, ignoring her groans, attempting to prevent the flow of red seeping out in thick rivulets.

"Ensign, ensign…" he said, trying to keep her awake. "Ensign Maria, hold on! Hey!" he called to the side. "Cupcake! Beam her back to the Enterprise!"

Without waiting for a reply, only for hands to replace his own bloody ones, Jim rushed to the entrance that they had nearly reached before the explosion hit. Striding through the doors, he did not sigh at the blast of cool air conditioning or at the surprisingly pristine marble tiles that deeply contrasted with the chaos outside. He pushed through the nearest conference double doors he could find and was relieved to find a large group of sweaty, frightened politicians all huddled together. It saved him some time from handplucking the men from each of their offices himself.

"Men, I'm glad to find all of you here." Captain Kirk sat down with a thunk, ready to get the business over with. "Call in a ceasefire and let's get everything ironed out. Those rebels are destroying your city and unless you agree to compromise, nothing is going to work out."

"It is- it is no use. It is too late, Captain Kirk," one politician remarked despondently. "They are coming to kill us. They ask for the one thing we cannot give and we have already refused for the last time."

Jim tried hard not to gnash his teeth. He had not just risked life and limb for a couple of sniffy politicians to ruin his mission.

"Excuse me for saying so, sir," he started slowly. "But why can't you just give them the damn thing?"

"It is sacred!" the politician replied indignantly, all previous despondence gone without a trace. "We cannot give it up!"

"Oh, I see," Jim assented nonchalantly. He looked at his fingers casually, rubbing them on his dusty shirt. "So…you'd rather let you, your families and friends, and all your people die then?"

They froze and Jim glared at them. Tired, hungry, and sore all over, Jim could barely stand more than a few seconds of waiting before he, exasperated beyond belief, slammed his hands down on the desk and yelled, "Jesus Christ, what is so hard about this? They're destroying your city! Would you rather live or die protecting an object that they'll probably take anyway once you're dead?"

The same politician repeated hesitantly, "It is…sacred." His tone, however, was no longer so sure.

Jim stood back and snorted. "Sacred or not, I'd like to see it."

As they were obtaining the artifact from the locker, however, Spock burst into the room, his hair surprisingly disheveled, and dirt streaking his face and uniform. Spock wasted no time surveying the room and immediately turned to Jim.

"Captain, it is imperative that we leave now," he announced. "Come with me."

Jim, for a moment, only stared, shocked, at his First Officer. Spock looked almost…wild, his hair casually flung around, his brown eyes wide and chaotic, an incredible contrast from the normally excellently put together second in command.

But they had little time. When Spock's words finally registered, Jim merely put his stray thoughts out of his mind and defiantly raised his head, only briefly nodding towards the other politicians that had paused to stare.

"Not now, Spock. I have a war to settle. I just need a little more time."

He turned to tell the others to resume their task but Spock quickly walked forward, blocking Jim's way.

"Captain, we must g-"

"No!" Jim, annoyed, sidestepped Spock to access the safe and reached down to grab the damn artifact himself. What he pulled out was a strange orb safely swaddled in a soft, purple, silk cloth. He turned to his First Officer, a pleading determination in his eyes.

"Please, Spock," he said. "I'm so close to actually getting this mission right. Just a few more minutes. Please," he repeated.

"A few minutes are what we do not have." Spock stepped forward again.

"Why not? I've asked nicely, Spock. It's not like I'm wishing for the world or-" Jim was cut off by a sudden and great rumble in the ground. Losing his balance, he toppled into Spock, who thankfully stayed as staunch as a wall. The screams and shouts outside doubled in intensity.

"We are almost out of time," Spock reported. "We must leave-" Spock suddenly took Jim's arm and, flipping open his communicator, he called, "Beam us up, Enterpris-"

Jim rammed into Spock's shoulder, surprising him into letting Jim go, and, as the familiar white lights circled around his First Officer, Kirk only smiled, an apologetic but determined grin on his face. He was going to do this, with or without Spock's help. Turning around, he did not see Spock's slow reach for Jim's arm.

Spock missed.

But instead, his arm wrapped around an exposed section of the globe that suddenly hummed and sparkled fiercely in brilliant colors.

The last thing both Spock and Jim heard was a melodramatic gasp from the other side of the room.

…Damn politicians.

***/\***/\***

It was a strange thing. It was not what James Kirk was used to. He heard Bones's muttering beside him, felt the IV drip in his arm, heard the traditional hiss of the machines, and smelt the sterile air so familiar to him in Sickbay. He opened his eyes. Blinked them once. Twice.

Nothing.

Jim suspected he was blind.

A surge of panic welled up inside him and he cast his arm out for something, anything to hold onto. He felt a warm arm and like a vice, he grabbed on, afraid to let go. He heard some shuffling beside him, a quiet snicker, and immediately scowled at the source.

"What?" he asked petulantly.

"Nothing, Jim." Bones said, his stifled laughs clearly indicating that it was not _nothing_. "Just," he continued, before Jim could protest. "When did you get so attached to that green-blooded hobgoblin of yours?"

Immediately, horrified, Jim snatched his hand away and grabbed for Bones's sleeve instead.

"Bones?" Jim asked. "What happened? Why can't I remember? Why am I…" His throat clogged up and he tried again. "Why can't I see anything?"

It was very comforting to Jim that, although he could not _see_ a damn thing, he somehow knew Bones's expression had turned more somber and caring. He could almost see his concern, tangible as it was. Jim smiled, a little wobbly but genuine nonetheless. He waved his hand at Bones, attempting to cover up his vulnerability.

"It's okay. No need to look so concerned. I'm just fine."

By the silence, Jim could tell Bones didn't believe him.

"Fine…is…not acceptable." A hoarse voice rasped beside him. Jim turned towards the sound. Ah. His First Officer, always come to correct him. "Fine has…various definitions."

"About time you woke up, you damn hobgoblin."

Jim heard some rustling beside him and a series of coughs before the much clearer and familiar voice replied, "Contrary to what your ancient folklore has told you, doctor, I am not a 'hobgoblin', nor have I ever been one. It is illogical that you should call me thus since no 'hobgoblins' have so far been seen to exist in this universe. However, if you do confess to hallucinations of such fictional creatures, then I believe you should seek help for you and your admittedly limited mind."

While Bones spluttered for a response, Spock spoke again, this time in Jim's direction.

"Captain, can you remember anything that transpired below on the planet? We must get debriefed as soon as possible."

No time for pleasantries with his First Officer then. As if he wanted them anyway.

"Commander Spock," Jim said and looked in the vicinity where he believed Spock was, immediately going to Captain mode. He served no mind to his lack of sight. That could wait until later. "I agree. Anything could have happened while we were unconscious. I can remember up until the point when you were about to beam up."

"Yes, I as well only remember up until I had attempted to take you back to the Enterprise-"

Suddenly, irritation flared in Kirk and he could not help asking, "Also, Commander Spock, you specifically defied my orders and had tried to forcibly remove me from the planet below when I had been in the middle of negotiations with Searus IV's authority figures. Mind telling me why?"

"There had been a significant increase in radiation activity and it was imperative that you were safely transported off the planet before any detonation occurred," Spock coolly replied. "However, that is a secondary priority at the moment, Captain." Jim flushed. Great, now Spock thought he was childish for being so hung up about it. Spock continued, saying, "I suggest that we relocate to the conference room for a debriefing."

Jim nodded, agreeing, when Bones, having seemed to finally recover his voice, cut in sharply, saying, "Oh no, no going on duty here. This is _my_ Sickbay and you have to go by _my_ rules. Jim, you're blind. You're in no condition to work."

A pause.

"…Captain," Spock said in a calm voice that did nothing to ease Jim's sudden sense of foreboding. "You did not inform me that you were blind."

Jim winced. Struggling to come up with a reply, he could not help thinking he hated that tone of Spock's voice. For some strange reason, it never failed in making Jim feel like he was three feet tall. Now, when all he could do was listen, it just seemed five times worse. Everything he did, no matter how successful his efforts turned out to be, always seemed to fall short when it came to Spock. No exceptions.

Suitably depressed for the day, Jim just muttered, "It's no big deal. I can still work…"

Bones snorted. "Like hell you can."

If Jim could see, he would be glaring holes into the damn doctor's forehead.

"Indeed, Captain," Spock's cool voice agreed. "You are clearly unfit for duty."

In other words, Jim couldn't do shit.

"I confess I am…perplexed at how you came to be in this condition."

Or, in translation, how the hell had Jim managed to screw up so bad?

"As the Captain is clearly compromised, doctor, I believe I should take the role of Acting Captain."

…Well, shit. Jim shut his eyes tight. That one hurt like a punch to the face. Of course Spock was correct. Jim had really fucked this one up. He was in no condition to handle his Captaincy.

"Jim…," he heard Bones say, in a soft tone of voice he could not bear. Not right now. Jim wondered what his face looked like. He hoped it was showing the calm he was attempting to project but knowing his rotten luck, probably not.

Nodding quickly, he tuned out Spock's "Captain, you should not be moving at this juncture…" and Bones's "Damn it, Jim! You're still weak!..." and stumbled out of bed. He needed to get away from Sickbay, away from this humiliating atmosphere, away from Spock.

However, predictably, he could barely get five steps in before he completely lost balance and all sense of direction. There was no sense, no organization to what was going on around him. Noises seemed to be everywhere in the darkness. Whipping his head around, Jim tried to stand and turn back but ended up losing his balance again and falling into a pile of medical equipment, creating a cacophony of crashes and glass breaking.

"Jim, goddamnit! Stop moving around!" Bones yelled.

Thankfully, someone grabbed his arm, allowing Jim to stand up and reorient himself. He was about to say thanks when suddenly, he realized that the body was too warm, too hard for a human, and Jim just knew that that infuriating eyebrow was raised at him. Flushing, Jim tried to back away but he found himself trapped between two inhumanly strong arms. Unwilling to look up, even if he could not see, Jim just closed his eyes and muttered, "Thanks, Spock."

"No gratitude is necessary, Captain…."

Jim sighed. He could just feel Spock itching to say something. "What is it, Spock?"

"…Captain-" Kirk's communicator beeped. On reflex, he took it out and flipped it open. Immediately, a feminine voice filtered out.

"Captain? Uhura here. The council of Searus IV wishes to speak with you. They say it's of utmost priority."

Kirk sighed again and rubbed his forehead. He knew a headache was forming in there somewhere and his close proximity to Spock's insane body heat was not helping any. He not so subtly tugged at the iron clamps around his arms but Spock, unfortunately, would not relent.

"Tell them I'm sorry, Uhura, but I just can't-"

Uhura interrupted, "They say if you and Spock come, they'd be willing to have peace negotiations with the rebels."

Jim paused. "Well…" he started. "Thank you, Uhura. Kirk out." He snapped the communicator closed.

Jim still had a lot of questions left unanswered, disorientation seemed like a constant right now, and he didn't want to even _think _about what blindness meant for his Starfleet career, but at least now he knew one thing.

"Mr. Spock, it looks like you and I will be taking a little trip."

***/\***/\***

**I hope the first chapter was a good read and preview for the things to come. I have the basic plot all outlined in my head but haven't gotten to writing it just yet, so updates may be sporadic and few and far between. Hopefully not, though.**

**Please review with any questions or comments. Feedback is love!**


End file.
